


Shifted

by Harmony



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:37:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harmony/pseuds/Harmony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything, in appearance, remained unchanged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shifted

**Author's Note:**

> This ficlet was a request from Fuyumi, who gave me the prompt "Post-war 7th year as Head Boy & Girl". Spoilers for the end of the war. Also posted at [my Livejournal](http://silverharmony.livejournal.com) :) Any feedback would be very much appreciated.

Everything, in appearance, remained unchanged; although reparations were still being made to parts of the castle, most of it remained intact in the aftermath, untouched by the war. The cold grey walls of stone, the gaping dark hallways, the flickering tongues of flame on the walls – they were just as she had always remembered, the way they had always been in the days leading up to that final, unforgettable showdown. But there was now a sudden weightlessness to the empty space and settling dust; shoes clacking in a soft echo with every step, Hermione sensed no shadows in the walls or the usual stifling heaviness of the dark corners. The hallways were as cold as the grey roof that sheltered them, and the feeling that enshrouded her in the too-wide space was not yet so close to peace, but she no longer felt the need to quicken her pace to pass through them.  
  
It was momentarily unsettling when, all of a sudden, an echo of footsteps that weren’t her own became audible; it was an instant precautionary reflex for her fingertips to creep into her pocket in which her wand lay hidden, simply for the feeling of security, more than anything. But ahead of her, she could gradually see a familiar angular face with pale, pale skin and platinum blond hair coming out of the darkness, walking towards her. She felt somewhat amused, maybe, that relief actually trickled through her; ever since her first year, those peering eyes and unpleasant expression had always put her on her guard.  
  
‘Good evening, Malfoy,’ she said plainly, coming to a stop in front of him. A couple of months ago, she would not even have acknowledged him if she passed him, unless he deliberately went out of his way to interact with her; but now, ever since the end of the war, he seemed plenty more docile than usual. Hermione was reminded of his confused, lost expression during the moment of the Dark Lord’s destruction. Although his being more toned down was no less than amusing, she certainly considered it an improvement.  
  
He didn’t say anything in reply, but tipped his head only slightly, barely noticeable if she hadn’t been looking straight at his face.  
  
‘I was meant to do the patrol sweep in the north and west. You were assigned to do the south and east,’ she continued. ‘You’re not meant to be here. Did you get confused with tomorrow’s assignation?’  
  
‘Oh, right,’ the blond said, and slowly made to walk around and past her. ‘I’ll go now.’  
  
That was one part of him that she knew hadn’t changed – that straightforwardness. For seven years, if he thought it, he’d mostly say or do it, without questioning or apology or thanks; it was, maybe, what put him and Harry at each other’s throats all that time. And she had disliked it too; perhaps it was because they were almost similar. To her surprise, she found that she didn’t really mind it much now, particularly not in this case.  
  
‘Don’t forget about the student meeting tomorrow,’ she said to his gradually retreating back.  
  
‘I know.’  
  
‘I’ve also made revisions to your project proposal, as you’d asked. I entrusted one of the first years in your dorm to put it in your room. You can go submit it afterwards.’  
  
‘Will do,’ the blond answered. ‘Granger.’  
  
She blinked. It was always a surprise whenever he called her by name, these days – the self-superior prattling about mudbloods and social class and his father had thankfully faded. She knew he would never really come to like her, and she didn’t think she could really get to like him as a person, either; but perhaps, in the light of even such a small step of recognition, this was the closest she could get to like.  
  
‘Hey,’ she suddenly called, raising an eyebrow. ‘Have fun on patrol tonight.’  
  
Malfoy turned back to look at her with a slightly puzzled look on his face, his expression speaking clear volumes of _have fun?_ but he raised his hand – perhaps in thanks, or as _good night_ , or both – and turned back and kept walking away, his footsteps echoing in the wide space behind him, underneath the lofty ashen roof. Hermione distantly thought in amusement that his facial features still looked like a spoilt ferret, physically; but she knew that, like the castle, something in there had shifted. She shook her head and smiled. They’d actually done quite well, making him Head Boy.  
  
She took a step forward and continued on her patrol and, perhaps, the sensation stirring inside her now had reached something closer to peace.


End file.
